


This Part is Always Hard

by bookplayer



Series: Life in Stoneybrook [10]
Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin
Genre: Gen, Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-14
Updated: 2011-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-29 07:18:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/317166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookplayer/pseuds/bookplayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary Anne calls her father once a week. She knows how the conversation goes, but that doesn't make it easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Part is Always Hard

“Hi, Dad.”

“Hello, Mary Anne. How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

My weekly phone call to my dad. This part was usually okay.

“That's good. Have you been to the doctor?”

“Last month. I don't have to go again until October.”

“I know, but. . . you may want to ask him about vitamin C. A woman I work with was telling me that studies-”

“Dad, I'm fine. The doctor says that I'm fine.”

This part drove me crazy. I couldn't blame him, he was always very protective of me, and he was just trying to help, but there had to be other things to talk about.

I tried to bring up one. “Kristy and I went to look at a building for the daycare I'm starting. We liked it, we're going to show it to Claudia tomorrow.”

“That's very nice.” he said, but he didn't sound sure of that.

“You don't think the daycare center is a good idea, do you?”

“I don't think that it's wise.”

“Why not?”

He sighed, “Because I'm not sure how people will feel about you taking care of their children, given your relationship. I just don't want for you to get hurt if this doesn't work out as you expect.”

Oh no. Not this part. I bit my lip.

“Do you think that I shouldn't be taking care of other people's children?”

“Of course not, Mary Anne. But people who don't know you well might be concerned.”

“You would have been concerned. You wouldn't have hired a babysitter for me who was gay.”

“I can't say that. It would have depended on the situation.” He sighed, “Let's not have this argument again right now.”

I sighed, “You're right.”

This part is always hard. This argument that we'd had so many times. About why, when I came out, the first words he said were  _“I'm sorry. This is my fault.”_

He thought that I was gay because I didn't have a mother when I was little, or because he let me spend so much time with Kristy. He didn't hate me, or think I was going to Hell, he just thought it was a hard life, that it would be hard for me to deal with prejudice, and that I could never really be normal. He acted like I had a disease I would have to live with. And I knew that whatever anyone else said about it, that my father thought there was something wrong with me.

Well, we'd agreed not to have that argument now. So I moved on to the next part of the conversation.

“Um, Allie is fine. She's getting so big.”

“Children do that.” He said, but his voice was softer. I knew that he loved Allie.

“She might start talking soon. She's babbling a lot when she sees people or things she recognizes.”

“She's going to be a very smart young lady.”

“Yes, she is. Last weekend Claudia's son was teaching her how to build with blocks, and I really think she's better at it now.”

“I would love to see her. By the way, Sharon heard from Dawn today. She may be here for Christmas.”

“She said something about that, the last time we talked.”

“Of course you and Kristy and the baby are invited to Christmas dinner, as well.”

I thought about Christmas with Kristy's family, loud and crowded and fun. We usually spent the day there, but Karen and Andrew went to their mother's for dinner, and Sam went to see Trina's family. Kristy wouldn't mind if we spent few hours at my father's house.

Then I thought about having this conversation with Dad on Christmas day. But longer. And in front of Kristy and Dawn. Either of them would jump up to defend me, if we weren't careful to avoid that argument. They would get in a fight with Dad, and I didn't want anyone to fight. I just wanted my dad to play with his beautiful granddaughter, and to be happy for us.

“Thank you. We'd love to come.”

“Wonderful. I'll let Sharon know.”

My shoulders were tense. Having a conversation with my father shouldn't be this difficult. Oh course, I reminded myself that it had never been easy, really. Neither of us were good conversationalists. I decided it was time for the last part of the conversation, the easiest part.

“Well, I really should be going.”

“Very well. Call me if you see the doctor.”

“I will. I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Mary Anne.”

“Bye.” I said, and I hung up the phone.


End file.
